THE RECRUIT

VEV: Fighters

Classified Imperial Base
49 KM, NORTH
Daro
LST: 06:05:46 // DAY: 18
RC-5570

The clouds slowly outline in pinks and purples. A light drizzle hisses on the dying embers. Mech scans their bivouac on his HUD. No other hostiles had approached them since the massiff attack. It is quiet not having RYNO Squadron around. Sparkstick would've had a field day with the overgrown reptile cooked over an open fire.

He nods to himself crouching by the stream. Hardcopy will be pleased to know we heard from Rex. He switches visor filters and picks up faint footprints and massiff paws in the mud that fade out into the water. He sizes one of the footprints to his boot. Taipan. Mech squats down clipping his helmet to the back of his belt and scrubs water over his face. It's cold but it's clean. He takes out a straight blade and feels for stubble. He field shaves without cream. That would leave a scent and a residue trail for hostiles to track.

He rinses the blade and gently presses his chest plate into the throbbing wounds on his torso. I guess you were right Sparkstick. She isn't just looking out for herself. He imagines her fingers patching him up again. She does have a heavy hand though.

He stands and goes back to the bivouac to wake Taipan. The rain had changed from a drizzle to a light downpour. The sun disappearing behind the clouds again. As he comes within a meter of the tent she bolts upright. Her hand going to her vibroknife.

Mech sighs and shakes his head. He crouches down and holds out his water canteen. She eyes it suspiciously but then accepts it.

He feels her eyes on him as he crawls into the tent out of the rain. He lays down staring up at the black weave of the woobie. The rain berates the laminate material and runs off the side. The blanket next to him shifts.

"Life has a funny way of bringing people together," he says.

"I don't believe in coincidences," Taipan says shifting over, brushing against his shoulder.

"So you're saying things are predestined?" He says rolling onto his side. 

"No. We still have a say in our destinies." She looks up at him. Her head resting on her folded arm. "I'm saying there's a rhyme and a reason for everything that happens."

Mech reaches out a hand, slow and deliberate to show the action isn't hostile. She lets him put his palm against her cheek. He traces her tattoos with his thumb.

She blinks slowly and says, "There's always a purpose behind the events in life. The tricky part is trying to determine what that purpose is."

Mech moves closer to her running his hand over her shoulder plates and down her arm. He lets his hand rest on her side and sighs. "I'm just tired."

"Mind just doesn't want to shut off?"

"Not just that," he says and rolls onto his back. "I'm tired of training. Tired of fighting. Tired of this." He sweeps an arm gesturing to the tent, the base, the Empire, and everything around them. He laces his fingers behind his head. "I want my brothers to be able to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. And I don't mean showers, full stomachs, and a complete night's sleep. They can't do anything with the Empire breathing down our necks."

"Yeah, I don't think the Empire keeps resignation forms on file," Taipan says pushing herself up on her hands "Can I?" She says nodding at him.

"You're not planning on cutting out my spleen, right?" He tilts his head, uncertain of what she is asking him to do.

Taipan punches his stomach. "It might fetch me a nice sum of credits on the black market."

"Humph," Mech grunts out, half laughing.